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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28106301">Gone (Ice)fishing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeTadpole/pseuds/CreativeTadpole'>CreativeTadpole</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>ER (TV 1994)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>2020ERGiftExchange, F/F, gays in a log cabin but make it angsty and throw in a three year old, when you accidentally write a kid fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:07:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,574</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28106301</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeTadpole/pseuds/CreativeTadpole</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After finding themselves on vacation together, Kerry and Abby try to leave the past behind and re-evaluate their futures.</p><p>Note: This is set sometime during season 12. And for the purposes of this fic, Abby never had Joe and isn’t with Luka.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Abby Lockhart/Kerry Weaver, Sandy Lopez/Kerry Weaver</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gone (Ice)fishing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/pgk/gifts">pgk</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A gift to the lovely PGK who has single-handedly kept me alive these past six months with her writing. I am so happy I met you this year in this fandom and hope you enjoy this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Henry all but leaped from the car after his mother unbuckled him from his car seat, finally setting him free to go and explore the new surroundings. She was about to call out, warn him not to get wet, but it was too late. The three-year-old was already on his knees, freshly washed jeans now dirty, inspecting a pile of snow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d think he’d get sick of the snow. It’s not like he has never seen it before.” Kerry remarked, shutting the back door and moving around to the trunk of the car where Abby was beginning to unpack their bags. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s probably all the pent up energy from the drive, two hours is a long time for a kid.” Abby laughed and handed Kerry a child-sized backpack decorated with soccer balls. She guessed that two hours in the car was likely a long time for Kerry as well. Abby had driven from the airport and noticed the redhead in the last half hour uncomfortably shifting in the passenger's seat. The extended time sitting had done a number on her hip. Abby made a mental note to take care of bringing in the heavier bags as the women began to walk up the thinly snow-veiled path to the cabin. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The log cabin was perfectly located in the woods. Far enough away so that there were unencumbered</span>
  <span> views of the </span>
  <span>picturesque </span>
  <span>surrounding forest and frozen lake but close enough to civilization that you didn’t feel completely isolated, a main road hidden behind the densely packed foliage. It was a modest place, built with a golden-hued cedar, containing two small bedrooms and a cozy living and kitchen area. Perfect for a small family getaway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This would be the first time that Kerry took Henry on something of a proper vacation. She hadn’t it meant for it to be this way, but after Sandy died, the idea of a family holiday was too painful. Then time just got away from her. Life moved on and the Lopez’s would take Henry every year on a summer holiday. She didn’t want to begrudge them from spending time with their grandson, but while she had never asked, she didn’t feel as if she wasn’t invited on these family vacations. Kerry was never really part of their family when Sandy was still around let alone now that she was gone. Blame could be placed on both sides and in the end, there was no wrong and right, only a group of people who wanted to do what they thought was best for those they loved. Even if it wasn’t truly what was best. Sandy’s parents were never entirely welcoming of their relationship, but Kerry never made much of an effort to get to know them. It was easier for Kerry to ignore it, so she did, even if it had created tension between herself and Sandy. Now all that was left was regret. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So they would take Henry for the week and Kerry would spend the time wondering why she wasn’t there the first time Henry felt the sand between his little toes at the beach. Why it wasn’t Sandy and her holding his arms as he paddled along the shore. It had become something of an annual melancholy for Kerry, a week where she would drown her sorrows and feel sorry for herself. Henry wasn’t around, so it didn’t matter if she was a mess. Although recently, she had found the feeling creeping more and more into her day to day life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kerry and Sandy had already been planning a summer vacation before the accident, another reason why it was too painful to entertain the idea and why she was currently standing in the middle of winter in a forest. If she was going to do this, it had to be as far away as from what they were supposed to do together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cabin belonged to an old college friend. The plan was for Kerry and Henry to come and stay with her for a few days but at the last minute, her friends' schedule had changed leaving her unable to make it. Kerry thought about just going with Henry, it seemed she did most things alone these days anyway, but quickly decided against it. The thought of something happening out there and Henry alone without another adult was too risky. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that was how Abby eventually found herself roped in on the trip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While their friendship had taken many years to evolve into what it was now, Kerry felt comfortable with Abby. Their working and personal relationship was one of the few things that was still tethering her to County. Still, it had taken her a whole day to build up the courage to even mention the idea to Abby. Unsure if she would even have the time to come let alone want to come with her. She wasn’t used to asking for things like this, asking for help. Kerry didn’t have needed to worry as Abby was more than happy to join her and Henry. She covered her enthusiasm with talk of how work had been draining her, that she needed the break. This was true, but honestly, Abby had mostly just liked the idea of spending more time with Kerry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While they had never voiced it, both Abby and Kerry had felt something shift recently. It was unexpected but not uncomfortable, though neither were entirely sure what it meant. And part of them didn't want to find out, for fear that it would ruin what they already had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is beautiful here.” Abby marveled, taking a moment to look around while she waited on the front porch as Kerry fiddled with the keys. Henry was at Kerry’s feet, excitedly pulling at her pant leg and very nearly throwing her off balance. Abby lifted the boy up with a grunt, amazed at just how much he had grown since she had last held him. It only seemed like yesterday that she watched him enter this world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The forest was almost overwhelmingly peaceful, a stark contrast to the busy noises of Chicago. The trees were dressed in a layer of snow. Their leaves flashing emerald green out from below as they guarded over the area below them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I do feel a bit like I am in some Stephen King novel. It’s kinda creepy.” Abby commented as a chilly wind passed through, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. After a lifetime of enjoying the occasional horror movie, suddenly spending three nights here seemed a little more frightening than she had expected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to let you know if I hear a crying ghost child.” Kerry teased, a playful smile falling across her face as she looked behind at Abby and pushed the front door open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby furrowed her brows, “That’s not funny, Kerry!” </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
<span>They had all spent the first day after they had arrived unwinding, not that Kerry had much explicitly planned anyway. It was simply enough to be away from home, especially in a place like this. And her hip, which even if it hadn’t been more aggravated than usual, limited any outdoor expeditions. So in atypical Weaver fashion, there was no itinerary to be seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby had spent much of the previous day reading, taking immense pleasure in the fact that the words weren't from a medical journal. She was also yet to have a paranormal experience unless you counted being spooked by Kerry in the middle of the night. Henry played outdoors, exploring the open landscape under the watchful eye of his mother before falling asleep in the late afternoon to an episode of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rugrats</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the VHS. Sandy used to do that Kerry had thought, remembering how her wife would fall asleep on the couch to the TV playing after a long shift. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was now the second full day of their trip and Abby had been commissioned by Kerry to drill a hole in the ice. Apparently, the one thing that was planned on this trip was ice fishing. Though Abby wasn’t quite sure as to why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The weather had been on their side ever since they had arrived and today was no exception. The sun peeked ever so slightly out from behind the clouds, generating a subtle glow. There were several other families taking advantage of the good conditions, playing on the ice; laughs traveling along the lake. It was a popular spot, with many cabins lining the edge of the lake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It hadn’t snowed overnight, so the terrain was reasonably easy for Kerry to navigate. The area was mostly flat, but trekking through inches of snow would have been impossible with her crutch and Kerry didn’t want to let Henry down. She expected to be cabin-bound most of the time but she wanted to do something special with him. Something he could take away as a memory, even if she didn’t make it on to the ice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby dropped the ice auger down, finally able to stretch out her neck and back after drilling for what felt like hours. The manual task had taken her considerably more effort than she had expected, and her body had some complaints. Overall, it had left Abby with the feeling that she was indeed getting older; something which had been niggling in the back of her mind for a while now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t so much that she was getting older, but more that she wasn’t sure what her life would look like in the coming years. She had reached a point where she was feeling somewhat stuck. There were a few years of her residency left, so that was something that was guaranteed, but there were other things she wanted or at least she thought she did. She couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running along without her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Worried that she would soon be having an ice fishing induced existential crisis in the middle of a frozen lake, Abby called out to Kerry in an effort to distract herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So ice fishing?” She leaned over her handiwork and looked down at the now visible water. “Seems like a pretty niche interest for a kid, hey?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sandy bought this picture book for him,” Kerry answered from where she was perched on the bank of the lake. “About some young boy who goes ice fishing, she never got to read it to him but she thought it was amusing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby absent-mindedly pushed into the ice with her bottom of her skate, as if to test the sturdiness of the area as she waited for Kerry to continue, feeling there was more to this story. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When we started dating, I asked her to go ice fishing with me.” The admission elicited a chuckle from Abby, who threw her head back laughing before she started to skate closer to the woman. “Look, I panicked!” Kerry explained, holding a hand up in defense. The other hand stayed hovering over Henry beside her in case he decided to make an abrupt escape. “Anyway, it became this little joke that we'd go ice fishing one day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what about the dead trout,” Abby signaled to the small butcher paper-wrapped parcel that was sitting next to a few pieces of safety equipment on the bank. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s back up.” Kerry said carefully, checking that Henry was sufficiently distracted with the stick he was using to unearth ground at his feet; not wanting him to catch on to their conversation, “Otherwise Henry will make us stay out here all night until he catches something.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby smiled at the picture before her. Kerry squeezed her arms around the middle of Henry who was lurking a little too close to the edge, pulling the eager child back onto her lap and reassuring him that he would get to go on the ice any minute now. There was a time when she would have not thought this side of her boss had existed. But now, after all the years, it no longer surprised her. Even at work, behind the brusque manner and occasional hostility towards others (Abby included) she’d seen Kerry go above and beyond for both her patients but also her staff. There was no doubt that she would do anything to make that boy happy, especially with Sandy gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must miss her,” The words left her mouth before she had even registered the thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You idiot, of course, she misses her wife.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>With guilt, Abby watched as Kerry's demeanor changed at the mention of her wife. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All the time,” Kerry noted after a long pause, her voice despondent. Instinctively she tightened her arms around Henry and placed a kiss into her son's dark brown hair before changing the subject. “Where did you learn to skate?” Kerry said, noticing the confidence Abby had on the ice and how she had brought along her own figure skates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby took the opportunity to move on, relieved she had avoided completely shutting down the conversation. </span>
  <span>“My mom used to take us down to the local rink, I had classes for a bit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She skated the rest of the distance to Kerry and Henry, coming to a sharp hockey stop at the bank, shaving off some of the ice. The hockey boys had always driven her up the wall as a child doing the same thing. They pitted the ice with their tricks, trying to show off to the girls and assert their dominance at the rink. Though it never worked on Abby. There had been more than one occasion when she found herself in arguments with them, even as a kid, already growing tired of their entitlement. Which would become a common theme in her life when it came to men. Namely, with her ex-husband but Carter and Luka had their moments. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Careful! I rather not have to get you medevaced out of here.” Kerry exaggerated, but still automatically flung her arms out in case Abby did come tumbling towards her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby laughed, stabilizing herself and taking a moment to catch her breath before heading back out again with Henry. “You know if you get that hip fixed, you might be able to join me one day.” She knew that Kerry’s hip had been bothering her and that surgery was on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kerry looked down before replying. “I think you are severely overestimating what a hip replacement can do.” She joked, trying to avoid the implied question of just why she hadn’t gotten it fixed. Why she wasn’t out there with her son and doing things a mother should be doing. Or at least that what she thought Abby was trying to imply. However, Abby was none the wiser to the deep-seated feelings she had just inadvertently stepped on with her sharp skate. Kerry was projecting her own judgment of herself into Abby’s lighthearted statement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby leaned forward, extending her arms out to Henry who immediately perked up at the suggestion of being let free to play. “You ready to go Henry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ice fish!” He exclaimed, small rod in hand and dressed in his red bright red flotation suit. The boy was easy to spot on land or ice. Impressively, Henry managed to restrain his excitement for a moment longer and looked back for his mother's approval. When she nodded, he quickly went to grab Abby’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby helped him onto the ice, supporting him to stay upright. “Hold onto me and we will go and find the fishes.” The boy carefully navigated the ice with his boots, finding his footing on the slippery surface as he and Abby made their way out. Kerry watching on. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey little man, whatcha doin’ out here?” Kerry joined Henry on the back porch as Abby went inside. It was late in the afternoon and Henry had been on his feet for most of the day, missing his afternoon nap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His first dabble in ice fishing obviously was not enough to tire him out. Kerry just hoped it wouldn’t be at the cost of a grumpy and overtired toddler at the end of the day. He was mostly a good sleeper, but when he wasn’t, it could take a while to settle him and she didn’t exactly want to inflict Abby with a bedtime temper tantrum. It was meant to be her break as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kerry was always amazed at just how much energy he had. He had an appetite for adventure much like his late mother; Kerry saw the same spark in them both. Sometimes just how much Kerry saw of Sandy in Henry was overwhelming, conjuring up thoughts she didn’t want. Tainting those special and joyful moments.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looking at my fish.” He explained as he sat squatted on the deck, prodding the late fish that may or may not have originated from a fish market, with a small stick.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well...it’s a very good-looking fish,” Kerry said, nose scrunched up and trying to sound somewhat convincing as she lowered herself down onto the outdoor bench that was positioned against the wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where the fish going to go?” He turned around to face his mother who was leaning towards him, elbows resting on her thighs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kerry smiled and affectionately moved a lock of hair off his forehead and to the side. “I think we’ll just leave him out here for now.” She said and held out her arms, signaling to the boy that she wanted to hold him. Henry happily obliged and was pulled up onto her lap. He fused for a moment, not impressed that his fish had now been left behind on the ground and Kerry reluctantly brought the container up as well, placing it next to them on the bench.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a little light left in the day but the moon was visible in the clear sky along with a small scattering of faint stars. “You see that star up there Henry?” Kerry pointed in the direction of a particularly radiant spot that stood out.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shot his head up, eyes squinted as he followed her arm.“The bright one!” He called out, his voice high with excitement at meeting the challenge of finding the star. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah the bright one,” Kerry said softly, squeezing him tighter and resting her chin above his shoulder before continuing, “that’s your mommy.”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless of Kerry’s current beliefs, it had been a simple way to keep Sandy there with them. At a level, a young boy like Henry could comprehend. His other mommy lived in the sky, Henry’s favorite place. With age he would come to understand the complexities but, for now, he knew she was watching over him. Making sure no matter what he was always loved and safe. That was all that mattered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mommy!” Henry quickly moved to pick up the container housing his prized catch and lifted it up towards the sky. “Look at ice fish.” Kerry helped him keep it steady above his head and then guided it back down again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was a sign that she needed to make a visit to her eye doctor or the cumulative effect of staring at the same spot for an extended period, but Kerry could have sworn she saw the tiny star glimmer in the sky. There was a burning feeling in the corners of her eyes and her face scrunched up tightly as she tried to fight against it. Every now and then, even after all this time, it would hurt to talk about her. And the last thing she wanted was Henry to associate Sandy with sadness. So like always, she did her best to conceal it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling together all the strength she could, she spoke, voice unwavering. “I think she thinks it’s a good looking fish as well.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, dinner was a success,” Kerry announced, walking over from the kitchen, one hand on her crutch and the other holding the mug of hot cocoa she had just made. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She handed Abby, who was curled up on the armchair, the warm drink and sat down on the adjacent couch. Henry had been put to bed a little while ago without issue and the two women were now enjoying the last night of their mini-vacation. The only light in the room was coming from the glowing open fireplace across from them. It had only taken them two days to successfully start (and maintain) a fire and not have to rely on the portable heater. They joked that at least the next time they would know to start with the kindling and not the large logs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t really go wrong with frozen pizza.” Abby caressed the mug in her hand, drawing comfort from its warmth. “I really feel like I have gotten the true outdoor experience on this trip.” She added sarcastically, looking over to Kerry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t technically catch it, but we could have had the fish the other night,” Kerry suggested half-jokingly, leaning forward to grab her glass of red on the coffee table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You're the one who didn’t want to degut the thing,” Abby said with a grin, having found Kerry's aversion to fish amusing. Especially as Henry had been all about showing off his new friend to his mother once they got off the ice. It was the scales apparently, that made her feel funny and Kerry had tried her best to keep a crutch between herself and any of the slimy creatures. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could have.” She shot back lightly, taking a slow sip from her glass. “Anyway, your surgery rotation was more recent than mine.” She reasoned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby rolled her eyes back before teasing, “Dr. Kerry Weaver, afraid of fish guts. Who would have guessed!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kerry hung her mouth open, feigning offense at the accusation. “I’m not afraid. I just...would rather...them to stay in the fish.” Kerry admitted, head slightly tilted to the side as she deliberately avoided eye contact with Abby, trying to sound legitimate.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both laughed. Relishing the feeling of being entirely comfortable with someone else. It was a mutual openness that both women hadn’t felt in a long time and the feeling of finally branching out again, allowing themselves to grow, after being closed off for so long, was lightening. Kerry had worried that she would make things awkward, she knew she wasn’t always the easiest person to get along with and it wasn’t as if their relationship hadn't been turbulent at times. The last thing she wanted to do was make Abby feel uneasy. It was also the first time she had done something like this in a long while, she’d never been much of a girls trip type of person. But on the final night of their stay there was no awkwardness to be felt.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is it anyway?” Abby asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Henry’s fish.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s still on the back porch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby chuckled, “You're just going to leave a dead fish on your friend’s deck as a thank you gift?” She half-joked, turning her head towards the glass double door that opened out onto the deck. Though it was pitch black by this time at night and no fish could be seen. Abby had only come to realize just how polluted the city was after witnessing the midnight skies here. Much like how she had felt on this trip, the nights were peaceful and lucid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just glad Henry hasn’t asked to take it home with us,” Kerry said. A rotting fish in the luggage was not something she wanted to end her trip on, and she made a mental note to check Henry’s backpack before they left tomorrow, not putting it past the boy to slip it in there. As sweet as he (and perhaps his attachment to the fish) was, he was also known to be very ingenious at times. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He is a good kid, Sandy would be very proud of him.” For the second time in the space of three days, Abby’s mouth was ahead of her brain and she felt she had put her foot in it once more. She sat up straighter in the chair and started to apologize, “I’m sorry-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s fine.” Kerry quickly assured, pulling the sleeves of her jumper over her hands. “She would be. It’s just-” She lost her sentence and started to pick at the fabric of her jumper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby was unsure as to whether she should press the issue or let it pass. She didn’t know how to respond. “It’s just what?” She eventually prompted gently. She wanted Kerry to know that she was someone she could confide in, she wanted to create the space in which she could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby had come to learn that Kerry’s guarded and at times abrasive nature was as much of a protective mechanism as it was a professional management style. It was easier to be the boss with boundaries; if you weren’t liked from the outset then those hard decisions became less hard. People took you seriously and it was less messy. Or at least that is what Kerry had assumed would be the case. But beyond work, beyond the bureaucracy, if you distanced yourself as Kerry did, it meant you’d never truly let anyone down. If no one liked you, they wouldn’t expect anything else. And in turn, it also meant you would never be let down by others who proclaimed that they cared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, life wasn’t that black and white for Kerry or anyone else; but it all soon became a second skin to Kerry that she could not shed professionally or personally. A skin where she could hide away from the prying eyes of others. Away from the judgment. It had only begun to be broken down with a few people; Kim and Sandy among others. Though in some ways that breaking down had been more akin to a forcible ripping off. Not entirely voluntarily. However, now she could feel herself doing it. At her own pace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought I was doing well after Sandy died. That I was coping. And I am coping,” Kerry started, she reached to pull her glasses off and pinched the bridge of her nose momentarily, willing herself to remain collected if she was going to continue. “But I’ve been thinking you know, I don’t want to be by myself forever...but I don’t want to leave her behind. I know that finding someone else isn’t letting her go, but it sure feels like it is.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She let out a heavy breath, her body shuddering with the action. Abby nodded slowly, acknowledging that she was listening to Kerry but remained silent. She leaned closer towards her, and waited for her to speak, giving her the time and room she needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These past few days, they have been so wonderful.” She smiled through a sniffle, the orange glow from the fire reflected on the wetness of her cheeks and Abby realized that she was crying. She’d only ever seen Kerry cry a few times before. “And Henry, I’ve never seen him so happy, so much in his element, at least not with me. I want to allow myself to live again. I don’t know if I have been doing that. I don’t know if I am strong enough to do that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby bit down on her lip as she considered her response. She wanted to tell the woman how incredible she had been, how much she admired her strength. But she knew Kerry wasn’t going to be receptive to that sort of praise. “Kerry, you’ve done what’s best for Henry. It’s obvious for anyone who looks at you two.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have I?” She asked, ready to answer her own question. Her voice was damning, laced with a layer of self-torment she’d been unable to escape from. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to move out of our apartment. Henry needs a yard, somewhere to play. But I can’t do it.” She shook her head violently and a rush of dizziness flooded her head. There were too many memories. Good and bad, but it was where she shared her life with Sandy. How could she let that go? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to fix my hip, but I also can’t do that.” The reasons behind her hesitancy for surgery were even more complex, but somehow it had also managed to intertwine itself into her identity with Sandy. She didn't want a new hip, a new life, because it would be without her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She continued, her face flushed “It’s taken me over two years to take a vacation with him because I couldn’t go on a holiday without her. How is that being a good mother?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This emotional release wasn’t cathartic. The cocktail of wine, pain, and exhaustion was a potent mix, and she had expertly harnessed it against herself. Every sentence she uttered, a form of self-flagellation, designed to remind herself and Abby of how awful she just was. Designed to humiliate; it was what she thought she deserved after all. Abby wanted to jump in and stop her but she couldn’t. She couldn’t move from her spot, the intensity of Kerry’s words forming a barrier between them, pushing Abby away as Kerry had intended. And all she could do was watch as it all ran its course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a little while before Kerry spoke again, this time her voice was quiet as it accepted defeat, “I’m not ready to leave my old life behind.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To a stranger, it would seem that the two women had more differences than similarities; in the way, they interacted with the world and what they held close. But inside, at their core, was the same fear of connection. For Abby, that fear spread beyond relationships and into her family and her work. While for Kerry, her work had always been something of a refuge, a place where, at least from the outside, she could look like she had it all sorted out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a common motif in both their lives, past experiences tainting the future. Infecting it before it ever had a chance to thrive. Because with love comes loss and with loss comes pain. And they both knew all too well that these three were not mutually exclusive. You couldn’t have one without the other. Even if they could forget their past, they were reminded of it every day at work. So while Abby couldn’t understand the death of a partner, she could recognize every agonizing inflection in Kerry’s voice. The regret, the self-hatred, and the feeling of being left behind in your own life. They existed on the same wavelength, tieing them to each other throughout the years even if they hadn’t realized it. They had always found themselves together at the most intimate of moments. It was never planned. Never explicitly searched out. But they were always together. And tonight was no exception. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shoulders hunched, Abby picked at her nails as she waited for the right moment to speak. Kerry closed in on herself, withdrawing into the corner of the couch, wishing she’d turn invisible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know Sandy wouldn’t want you to feel like this. She’d want you to move on.” She said delicately, but with assertiveness to give Kerry the push she needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Kerry responded almost immediately, looking across to Abby who even from her distance could see the trembling of her bottom lip. “And that’s the worst part. Because I can’t move on. I can’t even do what she would want. Give Henry the life she wanted him to have. Instead, he’s stuck with a depressed mother who can’t even play in the snow with him because she’s too scared to get surgery on her hip.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m failing her.” Her voice painfully quivered and the sound made Abby’s own throat tighten in response. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true.” Abby was fast onto her feet and off the chair. She planned to move to the other end of the couch, close enough to offer support but not impeaching on Kerry’s personal space. But she found herself much closer to Kerry, their bodies touching, something drawing them together. “Never say that. Please.” Abby took her hand, placing it in her own lap and squeezing it tight. Kerry didn’t fight the intimacy, despite how emotionally exposed she felt in the moment, instead, she relaxed into it. Her mind focused on Abby’s touch for longer than she expected, the warmth of the contact and the contentment it brought. Such a feeling was so familiar, yet such a distant memory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kerry raised her chin and nodded, recognizing Abby’s words. Making the first steps towards accepting them. With little thought, Abby lifted her hand to Kerry’s face and wiped away a stray tear with the pad of her thumb. The simple action triggered an avalanche within Kerry.  The catharsis came, and for the second time in as many years, Kerry found herself in the arms of Abby Lockhart. Only this time it wasn’t full of complete devastation. The field of hope was no longer arid and barren. There was a vulnerability shared between both women, but in that vulnerability, there was a muted euphoria. Something to hold onto. To pull them through. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for carrying him,” Kerry said as Abby emerged from the cabin, a half-asleep Henry resting in her arms. Kerry opened the back door of the car for her, and once Abby had gently placed him in she made sure he was correctly fastened in his car seat. The boy stirred slightly at the movement, opening an eye but quickly found sleep again at his mother’s words. “Go back to sleep Henry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby stepped back from the car, letting Kerry settle him in. “Hopefully he will sleep all the way to the airport. And on the plane.” She said, wrapping her arms around herself as shivered in the chilly air. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An early flight allowed them to be back home in Chicago by the afternoon, desirable as both women had shifts the very next day, but it also meant that they would have to brave the cold morning. Kindly, the weather had waited until the night before they departed to turn; even if it didn’t feel so kind right now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kerry slowly closed the car door, careful to limit the noise and not further disturb Henry. Turning towards Abby, she leaned against the car for a moment, rubbing her eyes as she yawned. “I’m just going to do a final check and then we can get going.” She said, before walking back to the cabin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She quickly swept over each of the bedrooms, looking for any identifiable objects. She bent down beside the bed, wincing at the movement, and checked for any of Henry’s toys. Abby had gone to bed not long after their conversation. However, Kerry ended up spending the night on the couch and awoke not only feeling self-conscious but also with an angry hip joint that had not appreciated the change of sleeping arrangements. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her mind was too active, there was no chance that sleep was going to come easy. She knew she would have spent the time in bed tossing and turning uncomfortably. Abby had offered to stay up with her but Kerry quickly shot that idea down. She already felt guilty about subjecting Abby to an emotional breakdown on what was meant to be a vacation, let alone keeping her up all night, especially when they had to be up early the next morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So she spent the night on the couch, reflecting as she listened to the lashing of the rain against the wood and the wind outside. The rain was therapeutic, lulling her into an eventual sleep and she awoke the next morning to a blanket on her that she never remembered pulling over herself. Or remembered even being in the room, to begin with. While she was somewhat embarrassed at the night's events, she couldn’t deny the feeling of relief that came with it. How nice it was to have someone there who would listen without judgment. Someone there who was patient and understanding. Someone who knew just how messy and ugly life could be at times. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone like Abby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been so long since she did not have to hide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After finishing her check in the bathroom, Kerry excited into the hallway and made her way to the kitchen. There was little natural light, the grey clouds outdoors hiding the sun and she blindly rounded a corner straight into Abby. Kerry jumped, her free hand moving to her chest and the sound of metal clattering could be heard as the keys she was holding made contact with the hardwood floor below. Her crutch also destined for the same fate if it had not been secured around her arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“God, you scared me!” Kerry said, voice flustered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby leaned down to pick up the keys from the floor. “You see, this place is a little creepy.” She giggled, finally feeling vindicated after spending the trip being teased by Kerry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kerry shook her head in disagreement, giving Abby a playful nudge with her hand as she walked over to the counter. “I just wasn’t expecting you.” She contended as she eyed the area once over, making sure that the only thing left behind was the bottle of wine and thank you note on the countertop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Agreeing that it was time to go, Kerry and Abby made their way out for the final time. Abby ran ahead, eager to find respite in the warmth of the car while Kerry stayed behind to lock up. Inserting the key into the lock, Kerry glanced over her shoulder, watching as Abby’s dark brown hair bounced with every step she took away. She knew if she didn’t say something now she never would. Kerry felt the door lock as she turned the key and that was her cue. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Abby!” She called out as she caught up with her on the path, moving as fast as her crutch would allow her. She played with the keys in her hands as she thought carefully about her next words. “Thank you...for coming with us. It meant a lot.” Her voice was gentle, but the pacing of the sentence was jumbled. The articulation of feelings was something that had never come easy to Kerry and a lot of the time she would freeze up. Never quite getting out what she truly wanted to say. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It meant a lot to me. You mean a lot to me, Abby. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Abby smiled, trailing her eyes to the ground and shifting on her feet before replying. “You know, I really enjoyed this.” She looked up. “Spending time with </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” There was a short pause and Abby’s heart paced as she studied Kerry’s face. “And Henry.” She added quickly. The statement was true but she was backtracking ever so slightly. She knew how she felt. What she meant. However, she wasn’t positive that Kerry was on the same page as her; reading between the same lines. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Kerry was on the same page. As she had been for a while now, just unable to see it. Or not allowing herself to see it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think we should start doing it more.” Abby finished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kerry stepped closer towards her, letting her fingers brush against Abby’s for a tender moment before grabbing hold of her hand lightly. Her eyes found Abby’s and she spoke, her voice full of warmth but carrying a fragile softness. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d really like that.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As I said on Tumblr I was kind of nervous to share this! This is my first time writing Abby/ Kerry and all the other works published here of them are so masterfully done. </p><p>I could ramble on forever about my thoughts so I'll try and keep it short. While this is Kerry/Abby it wasn't exactly going to be all fluffy. It didn't feel right to have Kerry dealing with all these emotions and guilt surrounding Sandy and then have her and Abby make out at the end lol. Rather, I wanted to center their friendship and how it has the potential to mature into some different for them (+ already has started to). And by the end, I think they both can see that happening. </p><p>This ended up being rather Kerry centric and a bit of a minor character study for her, so I would definitely like to explore Abby more. I didn't have her with Luka here, originally I tried to work it in but it became a lot of re-telling backstory that just was not very interesting/or good to read. So I hope you didn't mind the divergence from canon too much. Plus I liked the idea of Abby and Kerry sort of naturally finding themselves at a similar stage in their life- not in a relationship &amp; thinking about the future. </p><p>Anyway, I am now planning a whole friends-to-lovers fic in my head so I am going to stop typing before it is too late. </p><p>Hope you all are safe and are having a nice holiday season. Hopefully, 2021 brings some better times for us all.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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